A Way Out

Chapter 8: Nick

Hello everyone, I don't really know what to say but we'll start off with a huge thank you to all of you guys. I am amazed by how much people are enjoying this book. Is it interesting? I hope so. I'm hoping you can give me some ideas how to finish the book and comment your opinions. Don't be shy to say what you want. Also, I would love to get some book covers. Send them to me and I will put you in the credits with your cover. You guys are all amazing and have a fantastic day.

I'm pretty sure you'll enjoy this chapter after the kind of cliffhangers I've been leaving you guys all on. Anyways enough of me blabbering and enjoy:)

                                                                            Chapter 8: Nick
I'm in a dark, hot van barely able to breathe. I'm tied up, restricted from movement while listening to three guys fighting over music on the radio. At this point, I've just given up on trying to keep my balance, and I am lying down on the dirty floor, straining every muscle in my body as they turn, hit a bump, or jolt the van. It feels like there are hammers hitting my head to the beat of the music. I wish they would turn it down. I checked my pocket, but my phone was gone and I had no sense of the time. It seems like hours that we have been travelling, even though I was knocked out for most of it. I wouldn't be surprised if we were going far away from everything. These guys are sick. Wait... What if they are murderers? Panic starts to overflow on my body. I flail around like a fish out of water. Their attention goes on me and the van slows down to pull over. Before I know it, I'm knocked out again.

                                                                                            ***

I wake up in a dark room. The walls are covered in a checkerboard pattern of the soundproof foam. Even the door was covered in the stuff which I thought was a bit excessive. I've gotta get out of here. I get up off my side. I'm so sore. My head still feels like hammers are just hammering away on my skull. I place my hand on my head to brace it. The pain is unreal. I make sure there isn't anything on my head that there shouldn't be. Good they didn't change me into a robot. I seriously got to stop watching sci-fi movies. I make my way to the door. Although I knew that the door would be locked, I checked anyways. Surprisingly as I jiggled the handle, it was locked. I walk and sit back down adjacent the to the door and watched it. I held my head. I listened for any sound or anything in the distance. Nothing.

I started to count to 1,000 just for fun just because I had nothing else better to do. After I finished, I was even more bored than I was when I started. Is this what it's like in prison? I tried, but couldn't fall asleep because my brain kept telling me I was alert and awake. I was stuck with no one to talk to. Nothing to do. I closed my eyes to daydream. I tried to replay fun memories so I could forget all of this. Eventually, I got tired of living in a fairy tale and stopped. I closed then opened my eyes again to the god-awful room. I wish I wasn't here. Actually, I don't think anyone in this situation would wish they were here. I continue to stare at the door while I'm in my depths of despair. I hear a faint click.

"Hello?" I say stupidly, "Can anyone hear me?" Shut up you dingus, you're in a soundproof room. No one is going to hear you. I get up slowly and make my way to the door. It feels like im in a horror movie. A clown might jump out and scare me. I put my hand over the handle and press down. It's unlocked. Should I open it? I question myself. My heart beats out of my chest, and I cautiously open the door.

"It's okay to come out, mate." A familiar Australian voice says. I walk out and prepare myself, flinching with each step I take, for impact, but nothing comes at me. "My name's Nathaniel, but you can call me Nate." I loosen the tension in my body and look at him. He has black hair that is slicked back and gelled into place. He's got a few freckles on each cheek with dark brown eyes. His face is narrow and his ears stick out a bit like an elf. He smiles at me and reaches out his hand. I grab it and firmly shake it.